


A Bug In Hell

by ObeliskWrites



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Abusive Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Speaks French (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Knight, Crossover, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, French Alastor sends me, I'd tag something right now but it's a spoiler, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sign Language, The Knight is Called Ghost (Hollow Knight), The Pale King is a Bad Parent (Hollow Knight), They/Them Pronouns for The Vessels (Hollow Knight)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObeliskWrites/pseuds/ObeliskWrites
Summary: It was over, the Radiance was defeated and the God of Gods rose above the Absolute Radiance, as their claws swung down to tear apart the goddess who had caused so much pain, their victory was torn from them. The Lord of Shades was dispersed and Ghost was sent into the Void. Yet when Ghost lands he doesn't find himself in Hallownest.
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie, Grimm/The Knight (Hollow Knight), Monomon the Teacher/Quirrel (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 172





	1. Stripped of Ascension

**Author's Note:**

> Probably changing the summary eventually, I had a lot of trouble writing this and I'm finishing this up at 1 in the morning. Anyways, this is my first post so be gentle, also I run on comments so if you have the time please leave one.

This is where it finally ends, they had fought her many times before. Shattering their mask and shutting them from the pantheon, forcing the Vessel to endure the onslaught of Hallownests gods once more. However, no matter how many times they had fallen, Ghost reformed and challenged the trial once more. Their determination paid off as now they stood in front of the Absolute Radiance. In a moment they knew, this would be the last time they fought. The Radiance roared her challenge and the fight began. Beams of light shot past the minuscule bug as they charged ahead, slicing with their pure nail. The spectating god seekers could hardly believe this little ghost would defeat the highest being; yet with every swing of their nail and every blast of magical energy, the end came rushing closer and closer. As the radiance soared high above in the realm of dreams, the floor began to crumble away and the Vessel sprang from platform to platform, bobbing and weaving around searing rays of light. A single mistake could destroy their rhythm and the process would have to start from the beginning and somehow the mounting pressure barely bothered Ghost. After down striking an oncoming blade the vessel flew onto the uppermost two platforms and turned the fight in their favor.

The Radiance was a goddess, one that brought down the entirety of Hallownest; but Ghost was a bug who had killed gods. A vessel that danced with the Nightmare King, and received Unn's blessing. They had brought together the Kingsoul, and banished the infectious presence from the mind of their sealed sibling. This is where all of the pain is put to rest. With a final nail strike, Absolute Radiance was brought to her end. The thin fur coating the goddess rippled as air was brought in and pushed out through the slits in her sides. The Vessel rose high into the air, carried by particles of essence filling them. With a thunderous crack, the mask shattered, a beast, a god rising in its place. With long taloned fingers, the god of gods grasped the Radiance, descending upon it with flashing claws.

The sudden pain that seared through their body was unexpected, the sudden dispersal of their form more so. Ghost found himself lying on the ground staring at the Radiance. She was crumpled on the floor before him like a crumpled washcloth. What happened? What is going on? Why are they back inside of their mask and where had the void gone? This wasn't supposed to happen. Shimmering energy wrapped its feelers around the void body of the bug. Was this her doing? The dream realm shone with a blinding light, the symbols of its power flaring into existence like miniature torches. The ground fell beneath the Vessel and the last thing Ghost saw before his vision faded was the stunned forms of hundreds of God-seekers. Seems they didn't have a hand in this sudden reversal at least.

The darkness that grappled the Vessel was something they never felt before, it wasn't like the darkness of Deepnest where seeing the ground was an endeavor. It wasn't even like the abyss which teamed with a constant presence as it swallowed all traces of light, this was different. Light was a foreign concept to this place, darkness shot in every direction, so encompassing in its power that the thought of sight was laughable. All of it was paired with this constant falling sensation like nothing the Vessel had never felt before. There was no wind, no resistance just the sensation of constant downward movement.

Not even the Abyss had been so deep, Ghost remembers the hours they had spent diving into the depth, attempting to dodge the platforms and spikes that littered the space. They could have fallen through the Abyss fifty times by now.

Eventually, the sensation had worn its welcome, being replaced by boredom. Their void body had withstood any impact they had been faced with and little Ghost had no reason to think this time would be any different. Thinking back to their fight the Vessel had to wonder about what had happened during their fight. was this some sort of spell the Radiance had put on them? When would they reach Hallownest? The Vessel took a second to retrace what happened, the Radiance had seemed surprised but that might have been at their new form. The form they took was very different from their Vessel body. Ghost had been surprised too but the actions seemed to come naturally as they melded with the void in its entirety. The power that wrapped its way around them, felt like the power they wielded with the dream nail, and looked like the dream realm. So it makes sense that they were one and the same, and the Radiance was the goddess of dreams so it makes sense that she was the one who fought them with it. Yet something felt wrong about the situation. Ghost was so sure they had the Radiance defeated, so where had all that power come from. If she had it the entire time why had she not used it to wipe Ghost away instead of holding back?

Which left a final question in the Vessel's head, what if someone else had meddled with their fight, but who would have the power to interrupt them? To not only reach them in the God-Seekers mind but to have such control over dreams to pull them from the ritual? The Pale King was long dead so he was out of the picture, the White Lady sat immobile in the Queens Gardens so there was no way she would have been able to interfere. Unn probably didn't care, focused on the ever-growing Greenpath. The only other option would be the Radiance's brother Grimm, but. . . No, it couldn't be Grimm.

During the Nightmare Heart's ritual, Grimm and Ghost had grown closer than either of them could have expected. The dancing never ended between them, even after Ghost was victorious. The Flames were soothing to the constant cold of Ghost's shell and the presence of the little bug seemed to lift the pressures off the troupe leaders shoulders. Ghost recalls one night after their dance, the two had taken the Stagways to the city of tears, Grimmchild chittering above them as droplets of rain fell from the stone ceiling. Waves of comforting heat gently rolled off of the troupe master, drawing the Vessel closer to the lithe form like a moth to a flame.. delicate fingers reached from the cloak of the Nightmare King, brushing the Vessel's cloak before wrapping around the bugs void fingers. The touch was light, unsure yet the reaction from the Vessel was strong, eagerly accepting the touch, sealing their grasp, intertwined with Grimm's fingers. The troupe master looked down, almost surprised by the reaction before leaning down. The nightmare flame was composed of fear, yes, but it was made of many things, the many elements that weave together the fabric of horrid dreams. The flame burns with fear, with anger, but also passion. With that same passion, the bug leaned over his little Ghost, with a gentle touch Grimm presses his mask to the Vessels. A kiss shared beneath the shimmering Lumafly lamps and the presence of the falling rain. The silence between them filled with content, the two shared the moment for as long as they wished. For a time, the Infection ceased to exist, the harsh responsibilities of the troupe faded away. The burdens that weighed so heavily on both of them were stripped away by the stirring mix of flame and void.

Ghost shook away the memory, no. Grimm had no part in the ascension, he wasn't involved in what had happened. The heat of Grimm's magic was far too different anyway, the heat of his flames was far too different to the sweeping arcs of the dream magic. It was more like using the Dreamgate than any of the spells Grimm had ever used. Grimm likely couldn't manifest such power in the dream realm anyways, long ago the dream realm had separated into two which the gods ruled over independently. (Ghost had spent countless hours listening to Grimm talk about the realms, it always seemed so fascinating when he spoke about the complexities of the world) The Radiance and Grimm had been overjoyed to find their territory couldn't be encroached upon. While Ghost had, had an interesting family none of them had tried to kill each other (Except Hornet, and Pale King, and H- never mind. . .)

The God-Seekers could have had been apart of it, they had been pretty mad at Ghost for its attempt at ascension; but they hadn't been physically aggressive. (Although Ghost was pretty sure they could defeat any number of the God-Seekers considering their wrapped up bodies) However, the God-Seekers seemed shocked when the ritual was disrupted, if there was a traitor among them their hive mind would have betrayed the outlier immediately.

Perhaps the Seer could have done something? No that wouldn't make any sense, the Seer was on his side in trying to take down the Radiance, of course, she probably hadn't expected them to ascend to the Shade Lord but it would have all ended the same. If Ghost hadn't seen the Seer pass on he might have believed it, but she was put to rest and the chances of her weaving such a powerful spell from wherever she was didn't seem possible.

That rules out all of the higher beings (Except the radiance but that still didn't quite sit right with Ghost) and all of the available parties, no one else would have been in the right place or would have had enough power to disrupt the Ascension ritual.

The bugs' thoughts were interrupted but the change of color within the void. (Not their void, the Vessel reminded itself) It was a subtle shift, the complete absence of color giving away to an almost obsidian black, the change in color was almost blinding. They weren't sure of how long they had been falling but seeing something again was euphoric, even if it was merely a shade of black. Wind, another thing they had taken for granted, now it was whipping past them, sending the bug tumbling. Were they always tumbling? it's not exactly like they had any sense of direction when there was no color or feeling. The bug stabilizes themselves, orienting their feet towards the color shift. If the color of the void was changing as they fell then the shift of color would indicate the ground right? The color approaching grew more and more shifting to a red, and just like that, Ghost's heart began to soar. There was only one place in the whole of Hallownest they had seen red and that was the Grimm Troupe. Instinctively, however, Ghost knew something was off, Grimm's red was bright and vibrant while this was bleeding and washed. It was like a mockery of the nightmare flame, and as Ghost fell things started to get a whole lot worse.

There were buildings of sorts but they seemed to be carved from solid stone, and creatures swarmed the place. Everywhere Ghost looked something felt wrong. Then as things came into focus, Ghost cratered the earth like a meteorite, a trough of stone displaced, drawing a path to the insect. When Ghost looked up there was a sign in a color he had never seen and in a language he couldn't understand:

"Welcome to Hell"


	2. A New Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell deals with the appearance of a rather unique insect  
> (Or: Ghost gets overwhelmed, Hell deals with the Aftermath)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW// Depiction of a Panic Attack  
> I'm working on my dialogue since that is the part I struggle with the most. Also, poor baby Ghost is so overwhelmed with everything rn. P.S vessels have bug anatomy because it gives me a chance to flesh them out more. (still void just. . . bug-shaped void)

"Tom I swear to god if you don't shove your moldy dick back where it came from and come out here right now I will do things that makes Sodom look like London" Katie Killjoy was partaking in her favorite past time, belittling those around her, though this time it wasn't without reason, a breaking special was shoved onto her desk two minutes ago and if the news duo weren't on the air in 5 it was their asses on Lucifer's wall (Maybe literally). Normally anyone who thought they could order her around would be thoroughly and physically reprimanded, however, the piss dribbling imp who delivered the story said it was from Velvet herself. Anyone who was still alive in Hell knew not to fuck with the three V's and Katie practically licks her heels when the doll gives the order. Working under her does that to a demon. She got into this business because of her ruthlessness, she isn't going out because of stupidity. Although she did have to wonder, why does Velvet want to broadcast a special like this so bad? It wasn't anything different than normal, some murders no one's taken credit for and mutilation at best. The only option would have to be some kind of long con, but for what? Money was of no consequence so was its power? Or influence perhaps? Normally Katie would just look the other way but something was going on here, she could practically smell the scoop right under her nose and the spider wanted to do anything she could to get her spindly fingers in that juicy pie. She drew her fist back, ready to pound the shitty wooden door off its rusty hinges only for it to swing open mere moments before her knuckles met the surface. The shriveled newscaster looked as bad as usual if his suit had more wrinkles in it than usual. "Was I interrupting something?" Tom blinked in surprise at the question only for her to keep going ignoring him. "Good, get to the desk" ah, that makes more sense.

Tom poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee as he stalked off to his seat. Another day as usual. Tom Trench had gotten a lot more adept at reading Katie's emotions since he had first gotten his position and he wielded it adeptly; it was the only thing he had on his side so best make use of it. Trench eyed her warily from the edges of his gasmask as she lit a cigarette. Did she start smoking when she dropped in hell or was it something she always did? He certainly kept his habits when he passed on, not like Hell didn't make it more tempting to wallow in them than stop. The newscasters squinted his eyes as Katie blew a billow of smoke into the eyes of a stagehand, something was on her nerves, was it because of the special? The newscaster looked through the papers thrown haphazardly onto the desk. Couldn't get good work if you threatened someone at gunpoint for it. Tom scratched at his head as he flicked through the folded papers. This wasn't anything unusual, maybe the meteorite, but events like that happened all the time on the south side of hell. Tom Trench surfed through the text, it wasn't difficult to see something was going on, starting from the east down the south side and then up to the west. Drawing a semicircle of carnage and bodies. The direction seemed somewhat important, if the killing had a direction then it couldn't easily be a turf war, it would be too concentrated in one area. A new arrival trying to make their presence known? Not likely, every time some new demon went around slaughtering, they tried to stand out as much as possible. This was almost inconspicuous, for hell at least.

Everywhere Ghost looked it was like they were being stabbed in the eyes. Hallownest was muted, dull almost. Everywhere you looked color was fading into a pitched grey. Certain places leaned towards a certain color palette, Greenpath, green, City of Tears, blue, and so on. It's what made the searing orange of the infection so startling, and what made Grimm's troupe so alluring. Their bright colors stood out no matter what you tried to do. ghost could except that, it was the exception outside the rule and the little vessel had gotten used to the muted tones, blending into the background and letting himself sink into it. This place was nothing like that. Bright vivid colors demanded his attention wherever he looked and the sounds were like nothing he could have ever imagined. Home always sounded like home, it had a melody and every living thing was a beat in that continuous song. A back-step and slash were quarter notes in a fight and the vessel aligned himself to it, but this mess of sound screeched nonstop with shouting, screaming, banging, and scratching. There was no rhythm whatsoever, just a constant unending wave of sensation that forced Ghost to their knees. The Insect's spiracles flexed as oxygen surged in and out of their body. An indistinct slew of voices came from around them and Ghost's vision went dark.

It felt like hours yet nothing yet the world around them had barely changed. Ghost found his back against a wall of sorts as debris was littered around him, a trickle of confusion came to the forefront of their mind as they struggled to recall the chain of events that lead them here, a constant thrumming beat around them cleared their mind to think. Searching their memory was difficult, like retrieving pebbles from a flowing stream, yet they can generally piece together the string of events that lead them here. Their loss of consciousness was followed by a blank slaughter, pushing away the few creatures that surrounded them with both nail and spell. Everything was so large in this new place. most of the new creatures were at least twice his height and the massive buildings that surrounded them were large than even the city of tears had been. This place was simply built around a scale large than their own and everywhere they looked they were reminded of it. Steel stone and glass were used in such liberal measure ghost was in awe of it. Was another higher being at work within this place, something like what the Pale King had been, or perhaps, Ghost felt a stab of fear pierce their chest, **The Radiance?**

Angel Dust sat at the edge of his seat, a set of fingers propped at sore muscles as he tended to his makeup in the mirror. Valentino had pulled him in for a day of filming at the studio and judging how much work he had him doing, it was going to be a blockbuster. The spider hissed as his fingertips grazed a bruise forming beneath his eye. Val kept an eye on things to make sure no one deviated from the script too much but it looks like the moth was looking for more rough play this time if he didn't say stop. Angel quietly sighed, standing up from his vanity. He couldn't stay in the studio, if Val wanted him back he could call. After a quick change of clothes, Angel quietly slipped outside his door, like he was walking on eggshells. After his breakup with Vox Valentino had been a little harsher lately and any move outside of the allowed was met with force. At least he was treated better than some of the others, with a quiet goodbye on his way out Angel took his leave, turning into the alleyway beside the studio. After deftly stepping over a ripped open trash bag Angel sent his best friend a quick text, Cherri was always up to party with him and nothing cleared Angel's head better than PCP and high explosives. The rustle at his side was barely enough to drag his gaze yet the strange sight afterward sure did.

Ghost was contemplating his choices as fate chose for him. A thing almost gangly figure stepped into the alleyway in which the Vessel had been hiding. It was nearly three times their size and they muttered into a language Ghost couldn't understand. Looking back it doesn't seem these creatures are like the bugs they've known. Their hemolymph is such a bright red it shines as if it were alight. Most of the bodies ghost has run into cut easily with no exoskeleton, instead, the hard material is on the inside of their bodies. Ghost slowly reaches for the nail, husks bearing the infection always seemed to be aware of their presence but it seems his efforts had not been in vain, none of the Radiance's blight has stretched to this foreign place. the Vessel hesitates for a moment, they had killed multiple things on the path to where they are now but it hasn't revealed any information on where they are or how to get back home. They could always keep looking but time is always drifting away. Thoughts of the Moss Prophet and Myla come to mind. If they had acted quicker perhaps the radiances light would not have affected them. . . Pushing the thoughts away the small bug readies themselves, crouching slightly as they retrieve the awoken dream nail from beneath their cloak. A weapon to cut the veil between dreams and waking and break into even the most protected mind. Ghost thanks the seer as they dash forward, sweeping in a wide arc creating a swath of light that shimmers in the air, creating a sound similar to a wind chime blowing in a heavy breeze.

As the form of the small, what the hell even was it? "Thing" Angel settled on calling it a thing for now. As the form of the small thing sprinted forward the spider deftly dodged backward, reaching into the air and calling to his trusty Tommy's' a pair M1 Thompson machine guns he'd had before he died. The metal had stayed with him through thick and thin and Angel could bring them to him no matter the circumstance. With a raised eyebrow the spider points the two weapons at the creature, it seemed to back step when he dodged, looking for a sneak attack then. Although the thing he was holding didn't look much like a weapon, more like a dreamcatcher welded onto a handle of sorts. "You must be new here, either that or you got only two brain cells because I'm pretty big news buddy."

Ghost tilted their head at the creature, they were fast, and on edge. Only some of the fastest bugs in Hallownest were able to properly dodge one of their attacks, and this one had done so flawlessly. While the bug didn't quite know what the metallic objects were in their hands, Ghost didn't get a good feeling from them. The creature spoke again leading to an almost comedic bout of frustration, well it would have been comedic if the situation wasn't both armed and deadly. Their entire assault was in an attempt to communicate and this creature was just rubbing it in their face. Ghost considered switching to their nail but the situation gave them pause. They had arranged their charms in such a manner that spells were far more powerful, and they were topped up with soul to support an encounter.

While Angel couldn't forgive an attack, the thing was almost cute. It had a large head that seemed to be made of solid bone, with two outstretched horns and two big pits that seemed to draw the spider in. It was almost like a plushie, ooh! It was almost the same size as fat nuggets! Angel Dust smiles as he made the comparison, too bad he couldn't go easy on the creature. Angel pulled the triggers with a satisfying grin as the loud gunfire filled the alleyway with constant flashes of light. The thing had no chance as the spider turned the alleyway into a murder corridor, the straight direction allowing the bullets to fill the air in a wall of cold iron. When the guns clicked empty Angel dispensed of the large drum magazines with a loud click letting them thump onto the ground. The smell of gunpowder was refreshing after a nice hard day of work yet as he watched the smoke rise into the crimson sky his eyes zeroed onto the creature clinging onto the side of the brick walls, clinging on by a set of hook-like claws that stretched from their vantablack form to stick them to the wall. In the back part of the spider's brain Angel registered the information. "Guess you're a bug"

Ghost now knew what the weapons the furry creature had been holding did and they weren't happy about it. The metal had sheered three masks away from them before they were able to leap to the walls above the racketing hail of iron. The pellets the weapons fired were small and fast, almost faster than anything they've faced, but that won't stop them, they just have to push ahead and keep going. Two arms sprouted from the creature's waist, seemingly reassembling their weapon with two massive drums. All at once, the picture Ghost had been building had clicked. That wasn't fur on the creature's body, it was thousands of fine hairs, coupled with the sharp teeth and the multiple limbs from their torso the insect could only draw one conclusion. They were in the middle of a battle to the death with a spider. The bug had trod upon their territory and the spider was forcing them out. That. . . made things a lot more complicated. they could run but that didn't seem too likely if their range was as long as they thought. Fight it is, they only needed to scratch them with the Dream Nail and they could run. Only two restrictions stood in their way, the spider needed to stay on the ground and immobile long enough for them to charge and swipe the nail. Otherwise, the Vessel wouldn't be able to properly get into the spider's mind and gain the language he needed.

Angel was properly surprised, the little thing could take a beating, there was no way every round hit the bug but what did should have torn the thing apart considering how small it was. Instead of a messy explosion of gore, all the spider was graced with were minute bursts of black liquid that turned into a sort of vapor and then evaporated. What bullet holes he could see seem to solidify themselves into the same ink black flesh the creature was made of. The bug seemed to slow a little but its movements were still blindingly fast as it jumped from wall to wall overhead. The porn star squinted as he aimed his guns, tearing a heap of stone out of the building's ledge, no way was his attacker escaping after something like this. But the monster didn't even hesitate as the bullets whizzed inches away from what Angel presumed was its face. It climbed higher and higher until it was almost on top of him and when the realization took hold it was almost too late. As Angel braced himself to fire another volley directly overhead the bug made a complete 180 as it started to dive back towards the man, gaining speed as it carved through the air, The black of their body turning absolute as the absences in their mask shone to a bright white. It took a round of machine-gun fire to realize he had made a mistake. The bullets flew straight through the thing and Angel could swear he saw vapor trails emerge out the other side leaving the freaking thing unphased. With a grunt of effort, the actor braced for impact, arms shielding their body to prevent too much harm. Seconds stretched into hours as he gritted his teeth. "Fuuuuck, this is gonna hurt" was the last thing he said as he felt a whoosh of air blow past his nose.

Cancelling the Desolate Dive spell wasn't particularly hard, especially not after the days of practice they had, though it didn't make the tension in their stomach any easier to bear. The pressure of them failing pushed them to be perfect (They had to be perfect) with the flutter of the monarch wings, Ghost lightly landed on the ground, crouching slightly as they drew upon the Dream Nail, pulling it back behind them before stabbing forward. The first things they learned were concepts, most they were already familiar with, just in another language. They thought of the private rooms in the pleasure house. The spider worked in a place like those, they worked on a stage. Like Marissa the songstress, but also not. Another Swipe and there was the basic words. Guns, metal, bullets all related to the weapons the pleasure worker wielded. Complex language came next, Demon, Hell, Angel. Personal Thoughts would come after, but. . . No, their were things the Dream Nail was meant for, and this was not one of those things. The Vessel reached upwards, tugging on one of the arms of Angel Dust. The defensive barrier the spider had put up seemed to dissolve in confusion, clearly expecting the wave of devastation that would come from the Desolate Dive. Now when he spoke, Ghost could finally understand him, the Vessel felt a tug of annoyance at the confrontation, so needlessly drawn out over something so simple, if they could sigh they would have.

"Huh? What the Hell?" Angel Dust didn't expect to be even conscious after that display of power yet this little bug didn't even hurt them, tugging at their fingertips like a child or something, almost made them feel guilty. "Didn- Weren't you trying to kill just a few seconds ago, what happened to that?" Angel asked. The spider looked himself up and down as the Creature only shook its head with sudden understanding. That was new, Angel had never had any problems with communicating with people in Hell. People always seemed to keep the languages they knew when they were alive but in Hell, everyone seemed to have an understanding with one another. "Jeez, now I feel like **I'm** the asshole here. The bug nods and Angel laughs, one hand rubbing the back of his head as the others settle on his hips. "That weird dreamcatcher thing of yours works as a translator huh?" Angel asks which is countered by a slow nod. Not exactly but close enough. "Well, tell you what, no harm no foul. I'll make up for the bullet wounds and all, I'll get you a drink on me, got a place that I've been staying at, sound fair?

Ghost took a moment to think, his hand rising to where his mouth would be if he had one, the action earning a squeal from the porn star. While they had been in a fight just moments ago, they were still in an unknown place with an endless amount of enemies. At least he seemed remorseful, that counted for something. After all, if you couldn't trust a spider who had tried to. . . shoot? Yeah, shoot. Shoot you to death a minute ago, who could you trust? After responding with a curt nod the spider grinned, retracting his third set of arms and vanishing his guns (Which raised a whole slew of questions) to pull the vessel down the street. Somehow, Ghost knew that this little trip was going to be a lot longer than they could imagine.


	3. Daughter of Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost and Angel take a walk, Hell's new arrival meets royalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had me stuck for a while since I didn't exactly know what to put in it so instead there is a bit of everything. Also a bit of misgendering in this chapter since Ghost doesn't have a method of conveying their pronouns. (I'm trying to alter my writing a bit so the non-dialog parts match the character's perspective, tell me if it works.)

Angel had been walking for nearly twenty minutes now and it was starting to hurt his feet. The little bug he had picked up didn't make the trip any easier or more enjoyable. The tiny thing was quiet as church and its face was constantly shoved into a big roll of paper. Not like college lined or something it looked like it came straight from a museum, thick as hell and every inch of the thing was filled with scribbles and drawings, like a map of some kind but the thing depicted a whole city, well it looked like a kingdom of some kind but that didn't seem to make too much sense. What was really weird though was that the entire thing was two-dimensional, looking at the city from the side, the language was odd too. The prostitute didn't know too many foreign languages, being fluent only in English and Italian, but the writing was all scribbles and lines with no pattern or correlation.

The nice thing about the silence was that Anthony got a chance to finally examine the bug up close without it being too awkward. The little guy was smaller when he was up close, two and a half feet maybe, three with the horns? The spider towered over the thing and several times the pornstar actually lost the damn thing whenever they walked through a brawl or crowd. Their entire body was black, and not a dark purple or sumn they were Vantablack, the color you get when you close your eyes black; Even for hell, it was an odd color. The bug had dozens of these plates that lined them up and down with itty bitty fingers at the end of their arms. They had to carry that sword on their back somehow right? Although it's hardly even a sword, it doesn't have one of those cross thingies by the grip it's just one solid triangle with a nub at the end.

After a long time in the business Angel Dust knew something about pretty things, they don't last. This sword was one of the prettiest pieces of metal Angel'd ever seen. Not saying he'd grab it and run off or something but it was covered from tip to base in beautiful swirling engravings and it practically glowed. If someone caught a look at the spider they'd almost swear he was jealous, almost. Other than that there wasn't much to say about the bug, they wore a blue cloak of some kind that fell to their ankles (did they have ankles?) it was fibrous and disgusting, dirt and debris stuck to the thing like cat hair to a chair. Though they didn't seem to wear it like clothing, it covered their shoulders but it wasn't tied to a knot as far as Anthony could tell the fabric just sprung from somewhere underneath their head. Angel smiled to himself, he can't wait to see the aneurism Nifty was going to have trying to clean the bug. Dirt, moss, and mud littered their shell in smeared streaks like they had tried to clean themselves up numerous times and then didn't bother. A pang of sympathy struck the spider in the chest, maybe the hotel will lend the guy a room, it would definitely be better off than wherever the bug had been staying.

"How would everyone react to the little guy?" The spider wondered. Husk wouldn't react too much, the cat remained ineffable, no matter how many times Angel had pulled out his moves the tomcat showed as much reaction as a brick wall, he might have been talking to one for all the interaction Husk put in. Thinking about it almost pulled the actor off of his groove, he still had his moves, it will all be left at that. 

The spider was. . . weird. While the vessel had indeed pulled out their map, it was more of a distraction as they looked around, the only indication of where it was looking being its mask which stayed firmly focused on the deepnest section of his weathered parchment. the chance to observe the world around them without being tugged into a conversation was perfect, Ghost struggled enough with that already. Though the spider often talked to fill the space between them it seemed to be mostly noncommital comments on the world around them. Statements like "My feet hurt" or "Look at the mug on that guy! A mother couldn't even love that face" phrases that didn't pressure the insect into talking which was very appreciated. Ghost had to figure out how to overcome their disability, in the past, they had a solid grasp of their purpose, where to go, and what to do; but here they had none of those things, and asking questions was paramount to getting back home. 

The Vessel's thoughts drifted slightly, thinking of what home meant, subconsciously thinking of the friends they had made. Iselda and Sheo, Elderbug, and even Zote. What were they going to do with the infection gone, would the Hollow Knight remember them, could they be released from the black egg? Would they be able to live with Hornet, share time as siblings should? The bug's thoughts slowed as they thought about Grimm there are too many questions there, hard questions. 

Ghost had already been practicing his writing, while they never bothered learning to write High Paelian it seems the only way that they might be able to communicate going forward and the vessel was trying his hardest to work on it while they walked. Needless to say, an intuitive understanding doesn't equal a full education, no matter how hard the Vessel scribbled in their journal all they got was wrong. None of the symbols made sense or looked right, there were rules to the language that the insect simply couldn't know about, and trying to make anything without understanding the fundamentals was frustrating leading to nothing but a growing ball of despair rising in their chest.

"Hey, whatcha doing in that journal of yours?" The spider looked over the vessel, not aware of their distress but curious enough of the frantic scribbling to take a look at the inscriptions the vessel had made. The pair stopped on the side of the street, the recently renamed Hazbin Hotel standing over the nearby buildings, it's distinct forming standing out from even a few blocks away in the demon-infested hellscape.

The Vessel looked up, almost embarrassed, taking only a small amount of comfort in knowing their expression was always neutral. While Ghost wasn't a show-off they liked to be complimented on doing something well, learning the nail arts, for example, earned several praises from the nail masters. How they were a diligent student and how they mastered the arts so fast, but receiving admonishment seemed to have both the equal and opposite effect. After being rescued by Hornet from the collapsing Pale Wyrms shell the Knight lamented it for days. The feeling of being a burden grew within them, almost having rather been crushed than subject their sibling to danger (even if they had fought several times before). Whenever Ghost couldn't grasp onto something instantly they were plagued by constant self-doubt and depreciation. The feelings of failure and helplessness filling up their shell, urging them to give up.

"Oh hey, are you trying to write?" Angel dust looked over the journal a smile on his lips, the Vessel unconsciously sinking in their shell, sensing the oncoming reprimand. "That's pretty cool! English is pretty hard you know, I learned it and Italian when I was really young, but I guess it's much easier when you grow up with it. You don't get much of a sentence yet but I recognize a few letters, and that's a lot considering you learned about this, what, an hour ago?" The spider shakes his head, seeming almost impressed, his bottom pair of arms on his hips as he tilts his head, almost fondly. "That's pretty damn impressive, I sure as hell couldn't do something like that. Hey, I got an idea!" The arachnid snapped his fingers bringing the vessel's attention to the man's heterochromatic eyes, a rather bizarre if fascinating sight. "No promises, but I'll see if I can help if you want it of course.

The knight was speechless, well that was nothing new, their lack of a mouth being something they always had to deal with; however, the offered help caught the Knight off guard. surely something like that was expensive? How much do lessons like that cost? Should every session be paid individually or is it all done in one big payment, is there a down payment. Ghost's mind is slung back to the days of scraping geo together so that they can grab the items in Sly's shop only to be turned away when just a little off. (Sly wasn't a bad bug, just very materially-minded) The most memorable incident was when buying the Lumafly lantern, the little glass bulb necessary to progress in some of the most dangerous caves in Hallownest. Despite being the only bug providing business Sly refused to lower the price of the lantern, requiring the requested amount and never backing down. Ghost stored away his Journal, lithe fingers pulling the coarse paper into their body, their void form allowing objects to pass into it seamlessly. Ghost takes a moment to retrieve his geo pouch, the shells clicking together in the sack as they quietly count the fossilized shells. They were stuck between two beasts, they can't afford to spare the lessons but they could bankrupt the knight and leave them with nothing. It was an acceptable cost the Knight supposed.

Angel Dust watched the bug with interest, figuring out what the little guy was thinking was like scaling a mountain, they had practically nothing to give away what was going on in their head. The closest thing they had was where their shell which slightly indicated the direction the bug was looking. Well, there was another. The spider could almost feel the insect looking at him, the force of their gaze was oppressive somehow. Even when Angel wasn't looking the arachnid could feel a cube of ice slip down his back when they started looking at him. It was unnerving, but not too bad, you kind of got used to it after a while. The prostitute looked at the bug, watching them put their book directly into their chest.

"Woah that was so cool! Did you actually put that journal _inside_ of you?" While that in itself was incredible what came after seemed even more so. The bug pulled out a bag of some kind, it was made of several different fabrics, all showing the wear of time and messily stitched together forming a cohesive lump bulging with hundreds of small objects and tied shut by a small length of fabric.  
The little guy then started unwrapping the ribbon and opened up the bag revealing the contents to the spider. The spider leaned in closer, practically crouching to look into the bag almost confused as the knight sorts through the glittering pale shells. Some gleamed white and copper others shimmering slightly with a golden hue all coming in different shapes and sizes. While Angel was busy admiring the sight, the Knight sorted through the bag, lightly shaking it once, then twice, getting a feel for the general weight before holding it out to the figure towering above them.

It took a second for the situation to align itself in the pornstars head, staring blankly at the bag before his words started to come to him. "You, you're trying to pay me?" The insect nodded dutifully receiving a shocked expression from the spider. "This stuff is like currency where you're from?" Again, another nod. "How much is this? I mean that thing looks like it's about to burst, what could you even buy with all of that?" The spider received a blank stare which made them feel rather self-conscious, slicking their hair back the spider scratched his scalp, his other arm pushing the bag away. "You know what? It doesn't matter, you can keep all of it, all right? I wasn't going to even charge you anyways, it just seemed like the right thing to do." The spider inwardly winced, shaking its head as a genuine smile came to his face. "God, Charlie is actually starting off to rub on me" The knight cocked their head to the side in a gesture of confusion, something that was universal the spider guessed, Angel, waved away the silent question, further dismissing it with a chuckle. "She's. . . a friend of sorts, you'll be meeting her pretty soon."

Ghost slowly retracted the satchel of Geo, looking from it to the spider. Something just didn't feel right about not paying him for the lessons. Ghost inwardly smacked themselves, they should just take the generosity and just move with it. but still, something like that just being motioned away, that practically left the Vessel in the spider's debt. As they withdrew the satchel within their body the Knight made a silent promise, they would find some way to repay the Spider for the generosity.

"Well come on, we're almost there, and it's getting dark. You don't want to be out here on the streets when you can't see, trust me" The Vessel watched the spider as they led the way, the black sockets of their mask turned upwards to are at the massive and unfamiliar shape of the building the two were approaching. A sinking feeling rises in their stomach as they approach the front doors, two massive wooden doors filled with brilliantly stained glass. The colors were new and unfamiliar, adding yet another late of foreboding to the new place.

With a rocketing slam, Angel Dust made his presence known, stomping over the threshold of the hotel with ease as arms swung wide, dragging nonexistent spotlights onto him and nearly bludgeoning the Vessel that wandered too close. "I'm back did ya miss me?" the silence that gave its answer was almost deafening broken only by the growl of a hungover tomcat, their face buried into the wood of a bar-turned reception desk, a half-empty bottle of unethical origins cradled between his talons.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up? Feels like my fucking head is splitting in half" Husker growled in a petulant tone, bloodshot eyes rising to meet the offending spider who lazily strode to where the cat lay.  
"Oh Husky, I would **love** to make you feel all better." The Spider sat down on a barstool a pair of hands cradling his chin as a pair of fingers walked to the cat's arms who briskly pulled away.  
"I think I would rather off myself" Husk grumbled. The grouchy feline stood up from his spot, pulling back to avoid the spider leaning into violating his personal space once more. With a wordless (probably expletive-filled) grumble the cat lightly swirled his drink, silently distraught at the state of the bottle before killing it with prejudice, slugging back the burning liquid down his throat, only then noticing the small insect by the front doors, lightly shutting them with a muted click.

"Who the hell is that, another client of yours?" Husk questioned, raising an eyebrow at the peculiar sight.  
"Actually it's just someone I met off of the street, we got into a little spat, I took the blame and decided to make it up to them, think you have it in your heart to put it on my tab?" Angel replied, batting his eyes resulting in an eye-roll by the offended party.  
"Only if you never look at me like that again" Husk ineffably responded, stretching his wings as he grabbed a mixer and concocted a horribly sugary drink the spider tended to indulge in.  
"Aww thank you so much, Husky, you sure you haven't had a change in heart" The spider mercilessly taunted the bartender, seemingly fearing no rejection, actually seeming to expect it.  
"Suck a dick and die" The feline cruelly replied, giving no second thought at the response  
"Love you too" The spider smiled, somehow snagging the last word in the conversation, receiving a half-hearted and tired growl.

Ghost watched the whole exchange from a safe distance, partially surprised at the sudden mask Angel had pulled over themselves, matching the same taunting persona that the Vessel had fought against. Were the two of them friends? The little Knight got the feeling that they were despite the harsh words shared by the furry creature. As they approached one of the barstools the knight analyzed the receptionist. They were covered in shaggy matted fur with a pair of impressive wings, even if they were remarkably different from the wings Ghost was familiar with. With a flap of their Monarch Wings, the Vessel soared through the air, climbing up onto the barstool with little effort despite its tall size\  
"My you are full of surprises aren't ya?" The spider smiled, his eyes picking up the faint glow of the brilliant white wings, seemingly vanishing into thin air. Ghost shrugged, it was simply something they had picked up on their travels, it likely wasn't even the most surprising thing they could do.

With a light clink, Husk set a glass on the polished bar top, swiftly filling it with a pink slurry that looked like the mutilated remains of a blended unicorn. Pink swirly and filled with more glitter than Charlie's eyes, the thing practically hurt to look at.  
Angel would have nothing else. Blowing a small kiss to the bartender (which the feline dodged) the spider raised the glass in the air, jerking his head to the new friend he had made. Speaking up since the insect couldn't "Think you can get something too? You can't just leave them out of it"  
Husk raised an eyebrow, looking the bug up and down before glancing back to Angel "They look like a toddler, and you want me to get them wasted?"  
Angel put one hand to their chest, another to their forehead like the insinuation struck a grievance with a 13th-century noblewoman. "I can't believe you, Husk, thinking I'm trying to hook up a minor on liquor" The spider smiled at his statement, as it was absolutely something he would do. "Besides size is nothing down here, look at Nifty, she's like uhh. . ." The spider paused in his statement a fourth arm coming up to rub his chin. "How old is Nifty?"  
"Husk chortled, swiping a miscellaneous bottle off of the shelf behind him. "Ask her yourself, I'm not taking a needle to the eye.

Ghost winced at the casual statement, having personally taken several stabs to their shell, wounds like that would not heal easily if you couldn't manipulate soul as they could. A high pitched noise greeted the bug, startling them out of the conversation they were listening to, as the insect quickly stood up on the stool they were greeted by a quickly approaching woman. She was one of the weirder ones they'd seen so far, no fur or shell only a pale skin similar to that of a maggot but she carried herself with both grace and fragile strength. Thanks to the quick peek within the spider's mind, Ghost knew this was Charlie, owner of the building they were in and princess of Hell. While they didn't quite understand what Hell was yet, princess was a big title and required a certain level of respect from the Knight. As the woman approached she was surprised to see the little creature hop off of the stool and face her, arms tucked within their cloak and bowing their head.

Charlie hadn't been having the best day of her life, in fact for a while it was downright miserable. Her hotel had yet to be taken seriously or garner any amount of serious interest which, while demoralizing wasn't insurmountable. What was, however, was the constant jabs triple 6 news had been making at her. No matter what was being covered, at any time of day, countless remarks were thrown at the princess, her hotel, and even her partner. Even during the broadcast this morning Katie Killjoy broke from covering the serial murders, instead, going on a long-winded rant berating the Happy Hotel (With occasional remarks being made by her partner Tom to accentuate her insults). After the news special, Charlie expected some form of reprieve in managing her hotel only to find that strenuous balancing act tearing her apart. Trying to keep Husk productive was a useless venture, attempting to calm down the ever excited Nifty equally so. Even her planned therapy session with Angel had been thrown aside in favor of answering Valentino's call and trotting off to the porn studios like none of her efforts even mattered. The only thing keeping her going was the steadfast presence of her Partner Vaggie. Constantly at her side, Charlie felt like she could do anything with her support, the gentle touches and reaffirmations keeping her steady when everything was about to break.

So as one would expect, Charlie wasn't particularly thrilled when Angel Dust threw open the hotel's front doors with a rattling crash, disturbing her from the overflowing mounds of paperwork threatening her. Taking a centering breath Charlie smiled at Vaggie, whose scowl lessened looking back at her as she shredded a manilla envelope labeled "Threats". Standing up from the desk Charlie crossed the distance between them in a pair of steps, her soft hands settling on her girlfriend's cheeks and meeting her lips with her own. The peck was short and sweet leaving the princess giggling as her lover's cheeks blushed a deep red. "I love you Vaggie", Charlie said, stating the obvious.

"I love you too hon, you got this" The woman responded, pressing her forehead against her partners, rising to her feet as she entwined her hands with her lovers.

Charlie walked out of the office, practically floating as Vaggie steadied her, no matter how long they were together the princess would never get over the feeling of love overwhelming her. The light bubbly feeling swirling in her chest lifted her off the ground as she walked down the stairs. She may be in hell but with vaggie by her side, she was always in Heaven. A peculiar sight jolted her forever, the standard sight of Angel Dust flirting with Husk was standard but the demon accompanying him was new. Charlie squealed as she broke her grip with her girlfriend, eager to welcome the demon to the Happy Hotel. The creature heard her (How were they so small!?) and jumped off their stool (Oh my goodness they're so cute!). Charlie fought to suppress the sound rising in her throat as the figure walked towards her. Only then did she notice the weapon on the insect's back, wilting her smile slightly. Demons usually didn't show their weapons off so forwardly, maybe this one was more confrontational?

Immediately however her only hypothesis seemed to combust as the figure bowed to her, it wasn't a full bow but the nod of the head was definitely deliberate. While this ruined her suspicions that left Charlie's smile to only expand, they are so polite!  
Charlie decided to introduce herself, holding out her hand in greeting, self consciously brushing her hair back behind her ear (She hadn't been expecting guests!). "Welcome to the Happy Hotel, what is your name?"

Ghost looked at the woman, crouching slightly to offer her hand. Their dark gaze flicked from the woman to the female behind her, a feeling of anxiety blooming to life, although the vessel couldn't quite ascertain why. She appeared to be a bodyguard of sorts but something beyond that made Ghosts plates rattle, uneasy in their shell. The king of Hallownest reached upwards, their taloned fingers gripping the hand of the Princess of Hell truly uniting two foreign worlds for the first time.  
Angel piped up from the bar, watching the interaction from their seat, lips curled around a red straw. "Wouldn't bother Charlie, our buddy here is mute"  
Charlie raised an eyebrow, looking from the bug to the spider, just how exactly did the two-

Vaggie must have read her mind, the Salvadorian striding forward, hands on her hips as her eyes narrowed. "And just how did you meet them, Angel?"  
The spider raised a pair of his hands in defense "Hey don't go biting my head off, we simply crossed paths and I decided to invite them over, figure you guys would enjoy filling this hotel."  
Vaggie tapped her fingers on her hips, peering for the tiniest hint of a lie "And that's all, not bringing them here to sleep with them?"  
Angel rolled his eyes, sucking on his drink before responding "They're a little small for me, it'd be like banging a doll, no offense"

Ghost didn't even have time to process the conversation around them before Charlie nearly slammed their face to the Knights mask in excitement. "Is that true, do you really want to join the Happy Hotel and try towards Redemption?"  
The insect took a second to think, something was going on they simply couldn't understand, Charlie seemed to have some sort of goal with this project but redemption didn't make any sense. Redemption, it was like, make better, right? Try to make better something that was wrong? The Ghost couldn't fathom what they could have done wrong but their choices would have to be weighed.  
They needed shelter and answers, having run into and killed several people already there was a decent chance of finding either of those seemed to be near to none at best. However, here some people could provide both. Charlie wanted them to stay here, Angel seemed to like them and the other two seemed indifferent.  
Besides they needed to repay their debt to Angel. 

With a quiet nod, the Knight accepted the deal, unknowingly sending pieces into motion, the likes of which never before seen in either Hell or Hallownest.


	4. Scarlet Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One mistake results in a very big confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I actually have started writing outlines for my chapters now, and jeez my thoughts are messy. I'm going to continue updating this since I have a lot in store so please keep leaving your comments, I read all of them.

In a room above the Porn Studios, there is a man, basking upon his throne, flanked by associates and servants alike. A serrated smile slices through the thrumming hum of energy that drifts throughout the room, a flicker of gold reveals the presence of a golden canine, lodged in the maw of Hell's Valentino. Scarlet eyes flash behind his gold-rimmed glasses, head casually looking to his sides to make contact with his partners. The doll demon on his right tearing her eyes from her phone to flash a reassuring smile, the broadcast had been aired as planned. The moth rolled his shoulders, easing the muscles and exhaling a whip of red smoke. The first stages of the plan we're rolling just fine, now for the hook. . .

Ghost looked around the Hotel's entryway, a conversation was buzzing around them but the bug had long since tuned out the noise, treating it as background fluff as their eyes combed the room. The hotel looks, intriguing, for lack of a better word. Its architecture is foreign and unique, each part of it screaming for attention in neon colors. As the bug's cursory glances became more in-depth something caught the Vessel's eyes, a set of paintings. Each one was intricate and detailed but composed of cooler colors, a brief respite from their surroundings. There was Charlotte, accompanied by two other people. Ghost is reminded of their brief time in the memories of the White Palace. A memory of something hidden, obscured by fog, and just out of reach. What was it and why did they feel so drawn to the portrait?

"I mean, what do we even call them?" Angel scratches the back of his head, leaning on the bar as he splits his attention between Charlie and Vaggie. The conversation had been looping for a while now and at this point, the Spider couldn't care less. "If they're going to stay here we gotta have a name for them"

Charlie nods, her gaze drawn to the bug as they gaze at her family portrait, vaguely reminiscent of another familiar scene, where their sponsor first arrived at the failing hotel. The figure intrigued her, appearances didn't mean much in hell but even so it's hard to conceptualize what even got the creature down here. Their expressionless mask gave an impression of openness and childlike innocence contrasted by the black and blue. What kind of soul expresses itself like that in the underworld? "You said you talked with them a bit, what'd you call them then?"

The spider rolls their hand, finishing off the last dregs of their drink, enjoying the maddened look Vaggie gave him as he swallowed the alcohol she tried to steer him away from. "Not like we talked that much, at best I called them little guy, but I'm not so sure that's going to stick" Angel looks over his shoulder, attempting to grab Husk's attention but the cat appears to have already snuck off, freeing themselves from the burden of conversation. "Damn, wanted another of these"  
Vaggie shakes her head, quieting down the bubble of frustration that was growing in her stomach, it's a lesser evil, she supposes. If it was the only problem Angel had, their work would have been much easier, unfortunately, Angel was Angel. "What do mean?" The moth asked, one eyebrow raised at Angel's statement.  
"Ain't it obvious? Pink is my color gal, and that cocktail tasted fantastic, I'd down another thirty if given the chance." The pornstar laughed at the image in his head, Husk pounding his head into the polished countertop at the spider's request. "Pretty sure he'd burst into flames at just the thought"  
"No!" Vaggie interjected, wearily rubbing her forehead "Not the drink! Dumbass, the previous statement, why won't it stick. Far as I can tell they match the description well. Nifty is taller than the guy, so I think they count as shor-"  
With a well-timed snap of his gloved fingers (How the hell does he snap with fucking gloves on?) Angel Dust stops Vaggie in her tracks, earning him an irritated scowl as he interrupts her "Not that part Vags, they're not a guy"

Slicking back his hair the prostitute took a breath to explain.  
"Look, you know how pheromones work right?" Charlie looked to Vaggie who is focused on the three-foot-tall vessel currently occupying their entryway. Receiving a reassuring nod the spider continues. "Well if you're in my line of work you learn to pick up on some things, I got some high rollers that come through every once in a while. After a while, I figured out how to push some buttons, and it's pretty easy to get your hands on manufactured pheromones." Angel proceeded to rub his head looking at the couple, picking up on their nonverbal discomfort. "Okay, long story short, I can smell pheromones and the like. This bug isn't a guy, not a girl either, I could pick up on it."

Charlie nods, her confusion giving way to understanding, while she thoroughly enjoyed the explanation of anatomy, she was far too embarrassed to admit something like that. Vaggie however couldn't really care, she was familiar with the concept of non-binary genders. "Ok, well that doesn't really get us any closer, we still don't have anything to call them." Vaggie looked over at Charlie, confused for a moment as the princess bounced on her heels. 

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Charlie's inner monologue consisted of a feedback loop of squealing and shrieking. Being a Hell borne demon, Charlotte Magne has never had any experience with the living world, and only managed to learn about it from biased accounts written in textbooks or from the fallen sinners. Thrilled to see something new the princess had to be held back by her girlfriend, heels digging into the floor to slow her ascent.  
"Wait a sec hon, I get it, you're excited but think for a moment. It's pretty rude going up to someone and start interrogating them on their gender. They're a person like every one of us so slow your roll."  
A flare of guilt writhes within Charlotte, looking from Vaggie to the vessel before nodding solemnly.

Relatively speaking, the hotel has been without incident for the entirety of Ghosts visit, some fast-paced conversation, a quick brush with a bodyguard. All was going just fine, so it was just the Vessel's luck that the second they stepped on the hotel's carpet everything went wrong.

A scarlet-colored tornado ran through the Hotel's halls, the quick tip-tapping of her feet giving the briefest indication of her approach as Niffty approached the Hotels lobby. Her singular eye zoomed around the room. It was thanks to her the Hotel remained spotless and she would sooner fight god than fail at her task. Imagine the stew of emotions that ran through her as she spotted the new visitor caked head to toe in filth. Specks of mud stuck out to her like coronas of blood, the tiniest fleck of blood sending hives up and down her arms as she was overrun with a singular thought: Clean.

"Oh, my gosh! What happened to you?" Ghost was thrown back as a tiny cyclops spun around them, her fingers brushing and prodding their form, by the time they swirled around to catch nifty in the act she had already circled again, polishing, shining, and cleaning them from horn to toe. "My name is Niffty, you are filthy! How did you get so dirty? It's okay I'll clean you right up!" as anyone on the inside of one of Niffty's cleaning binges can attest, sitting in the middle of it is like being spun in a car wash. Ghost had nothing to compare the experience to then "Nightmare". The constant flashes of contact burning their shell, the rubbing and shining that pushed their muscles together tight enough to burst. It was a disconcerting experience that set them on edge until it all boiled to a peak. "Oh my goodness, look at this rag! Let me take it right off ya!" The cyclops smile as she skirted around the Vessel's side, too distracted by coagulated blood and muck to notice their mounting distress. Two hands reached out to grab the fibrous garment and pulled back, splitting the air with a shrieking rip as the membrane connected to the Insect's shell tore.

The entire Hotel went silent; as if all of the sounds were sucked into a vacuum leaving nothing but the void. Niffty gently let go of the cloak, her confusion growing as she felt a wet streak paint the side of her face; daintily reaching up to touch the pulsing heat before looking at her hand to notice the sanguine pigment. Her lips parted for a moment, almost stating her question before the searing pain hit her, the flesh of her cheek parting in a clear line revealing the demon tissue working underneath the soft meat.  
All eyes snapped to the Vessel, chest heaving as air filled their lungs and exited through their void soaked spiracles. Their taloned hand gripped around the metal of their weapon, its honed edge stained with demonic blood.

For a moment no one moved, no one spoke, everyone was holding their breath to see the fallout before their very eyes. Then there was the noise that signaled the end. A growing hum of static, its distorted frequency coming from now singular point, merely a presence that grew in intensity until it was almost skull-splitting.  
With a curse Vaggie shoved the hotel manager behind her, hands glowing for a moment as she brought her spear to her, resting in a neutral guard, finding herself on the sidelines of a warzone soon to occur. With a tilt of her head the bodyguard signals for the other to flee, only for the silent command to be ignored which elicited emotions of frustration and comfort. No matter how hard the woman tried, she wouldn't be alone. Though she wouldn't admit it, the moth was happy for Charlie's comforting presence; the approaching presence scared her more than anything else but she held strong. She needed to be strong, for her.

The only thoughts that ran through Angel Dust's head as he sat glued to his seat were "Well, guess it's good after all" and more noticeably "Alastor is going to be PISSED" the spider remained in his stool, numb to the situation unfolding before him, the humming background noise tugging him farther away from the world around him. A dull part of him knew this wasn't any good, urging the spider to pull himself together and get moving. The voice was overwhelmed however by the flood of experience, the sickly tide of numbness spreading throughout the spider. Something they were all too comfortable giving themselves up to, their escape coming to his aid once again.

A malicious shadow bled down the hall, the winding darkness hissed in a peal of otherworldly laughter. The demonic presence marched in time to its sordid master, the click of their shoes signaled their presence, a side note to their wrath agitating the world around them. Despite the anger bubbling in his core, the man never lost his smile. His manic grin lit his face in the most twisted light Hell could manifest. When he finally stopped, his eyes took in the frozen scene, the sight of the blank eyes of the bug staring at him. His lips twitched for just a moment, eyes taking in the sight of the bloodied weapon and the shivering Niffty. The man narrowed his eyes, taloned hands folding behind his back, the razor-sharp points nearly digging into the flesh of palms. With a breath the man leaned over, his skeletal form looming over the insect before him. In one clear line, Alastor spoke.  
"Just, who do you think you are?"

Ghost felt their world turn upside down before them, they heard it at first. The slow click of feet against a stage and for a moment they could feel their muscles relax. Everything was going to be okay, the harsh heat bearing down upon them stunningly familiar yet so different. Part of them wanted to question where they had come from but it didn't matter, they were here now. If Ghost had a mouth to cry they would have wept from relief, every second without them brought forth the idea they might never see them again. As they looked out to see Grimm approach, Ghost felt their body turn cold.  
That man wasn't Grimm, but. . . but everything looked like them. The pale flesh, the shape of their head, the red heat filled eyes. That smile was own Grimm wore so often, it was a showman smile, looking out to the world as they put on the best show to ever be seen. They even _felt_ familiar. The harsh heat of their presence was something only Grimm had, their mastery over the nightmare flame incorporating with their very essence until it became something that Ghost could recognize anywhere. The way they both held themselves, it's like they were copies of one another, and Ghost didn't know how to feel. It was like a pressure growing behind their sockets, trying to breach outwards.  
Everything about the man so close to their love, the only person they had ever truly belonged to. It was **wrong, insulting** somewhere some higher being was mocking them, showing them the person they couldn't find in all the wrong ways, there was no comfort, only pain. With no relief, the pressure only grew until they burst.

The pressure of their gaze was. . . intense. Under different circumstances, Alastor might have been curious, asked the creature its name, and satisfied their inquisitive nature. But the burbling wrath beneath their skin demanded blood, the deer glowed with crimson light, matching the intense gaze of the Vessel. Their employee had been hurt and the demon would make sure the creature would suffer like no other demon in Hell had. His eyes flicked once, twice, taking stock of the room around him. Yet the creature made no motion whatsoever, like a statue under the heat of the sun. The cannibal set his teeth as his eyes hardened, they had a captive audience, once again Alastor is reminded how much he might enjoy the circumstances at a different time. Something never to be.  
Alastor dragged his mind from the thought, time was of the essence and if the creature was fast enough to get a hit on Niffty of all people, the bug was fast indeed. Pieces fell before him and in a moment the board was set. While some may think of Alastor as a barbarian razing the land before him (and they were right to think so) the deer was no brute. One did not become an overlord on strength alone. When the deer finished his plan he drew his power upon the vessel, preparing their strength within themselves before they rose to a crescendo. Runes fizzled to life around him, familiar symbols, incomplete fractions of the Loas he worshipped in life, proof of his power, bent around him to control. Alastor took a centering breath, conjuring his microphone with a roll of his wrist and pointing it outwards, directing it at the Vessel who was. . . crying?

Liquid void spilled from the bugs sockets, the inward pool of void spilling out to mark tear tracks on their shell-like so many of the void taken shells Ghost had seen on his travels. Despite how desperately the pale king had tried to hollow out their children, the void could never take every dredge of life away from them, and in moments of their greatest despair, the void made it known, churning to life to spill from their sockets when the turmoil became too great to contain. When was the last time they had grieved so? When Quirrel walked into the Blue Lake never to resurface? When they struck down Hornet's mother and shared in her misery? When the infection overtook Myla? When they knelt beside their sibling chained in the black egg?  
As Ghost searched their memories all they could find was more dispair, sinking into that pit deeper than the void sea. Until a phantom reached out, a gentle heat caressed their shell, burning and intimate. Ghost tried to shut himself away from it, he knew it wasn't real, but they couldn't help but give in. It was a reminder of the light that shone for them. The light that guided them with gentle nudges and reassuring hands so different from his sisters blinding Radiance. If the Vessel was ever to meet with him again, they must survive.

**They Must**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two little headcanons: Ghosts cloak is actually made of their fibers (since it's literally called mothwing cloak) however it is separate from their monarch wings which lie underneath their elytra, also Ghost is touch averse however it may fade with time since it stems from their lack of touch in Hallownest.


	5. Scarlet Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight breaks out on the Hotel's grounds and Hell greets another stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, the next one won't take so long, I promise. Also, I read all your comments, they are very nice, thank you.

To say the vessel was out of its depth was an understatement. Ghosts had gotten themselves into trouble, and it wasn't looking good for them. Deep down, they knew it was their fault, lashing out was their first and only instinct, a panic that forced them to swing wide with their nail. Only after they drew blood did they realize their mistake. In Hallownest the constant threat around them required quick thinking and even faster acting. When the membrane tore their first thought was simple, **"KILL"** , pale ore sang through the air and parted soft flesh. Many of the creatures Ghost has seen so far lack the hard shells of Hallownest's citizens, they have yet to get used to the lack of resistance. When they turned, their eyes didn't meet an attacker, but a victim.  
Now they stood in a battleground, nail at the ready and nowhere to flee. Ghost isn't new to violence, from the day they crawled from the abyss they never stopped fighting. Yet this was different, before they knew what to expect, or could have some time to prepare. Very few times have they ever been taken off guard, the bench at Crystal Peak and Nosk come to mind. Ghost mentally shook their head, they don't want to think of Nosk, _ever again_ , even if they had died they could get knowledge from the encounter the next time they crossed paths. But without knowing if such action was even possible in this strange place that line of thinking had to be removed in its entirety.

Here they were at their weakest, with few masks remaining, an inadequate charm build (it was purposefully designed to target one person after all), and with no knowledge on how this enemy could come after them. They just might not make it out in one piece. The tall red-figure before them looked angry, glowing red eyes (Ghost made sure not to look directly into them, those eyes hurt too much) pointed at the one Ghost hurt. For a moment they reminded Ghost of Hornet, the blur of red filled with determination to protect, the vessel could understand it in a way. They hadn't fought around people before, much less, bystanders. Yet there were three people already drawn into the brewing conflict. Charlie and her bodyguard look like they might be fine, but the one they walked with seems to have frozen still, their body tensing and locking up. This means Ghost had two goals in this fight, defeating the attacker and saving the spider.

As Alastor lowered his microphone he had only two thoughts on his mind. One: Remove Nifty from the situation. Two: Obliterate all remains of the bug from Hell.  
It appeared it would be rather easy, the figure hadn't even moved yet. The tears had been enough to give them a moment's pause, but ultimately it was of no consequence. They were just another demon to give themselves into fear. Alastor's smile grew just a touch wider, he would have appreciated playing around with the intruder but it will be _so_ satisfying to blow them apart. A flare in static was the only warning the bug received as a blossom of fire sprang to life at the end of his mic, roaring in sudden brilliance as it shot forward a crimson lance of pure energy.

In some deep part of her mind, Niffty knew she should be moving, running. But now for some reason, she just couldn't get herself to even twitch, her normally excited form could barely sit still but now it wouldn't move no matter how much she yelled at it. It was like her mind had been sealed away in some far-off space, watching events come to life before her on a television screen. (Alastor would hate the apt comparison) Al had stepped out of the shadows, his grin stretched far too wide. Niffty hated when he smiled like that, it was one of his angry smiles. Whenever Niffty had tried to bring up the topic he always seemed to shift away from it, eventually, she just stopped asking. Some part of her almost hurt, Al was smiling like that because of her, **because** of her.  
As the room began to heat up, Niffty felt a tug, pulling her off of her feet. Cold taloned hands picked her up off of the ground, the familiar sensation cradling her as the slender form moved her from the fight. Niffty instinctively pressed her head against the dark chest of her savior, her eyes looked up to meet a neon blue

Ghost knew that looks didn't equal strength, many of Hallownests strongest enemies had been the least imposing and if their altercation with Angel was any indicator then this place was much the same. This one though, he _looked_ like a problem, which did not mean very good things for the king of Hallownest. The fight began with a flourish, the figure swept outwards with their staff, one hand pointed at them, almost lazily in a manner that didn't immediately strike Ghost as threatening or aggressive. Which meant one of two things. Either they didn't know how to fight. Or they weren't going to strike at them. They got their answer soon after.  
A faint red light shone in the man's eyes as he gathered his energy, it was just enough of a tell for Ghost to get the upper hand. They had a lifetime of experiences fighting others and this one seemed to telegraph their attacks in an almost inexperienced manner. Red magical waves swam in their vision as they spun and circled the guardian, swirling and coalescing into a needle-like point before shooting forwards like a ray of light.  
Ghost made their decision in an instant, as they sprinted forward, Ghost prepared for the pain to come. The ray of flames spiraled towards them, intent on burning the insect to a crisp. Ghost waited until the very last moment to dash through the flames. In an instant their form turned to void, the liquid soaring outwards from within their shell and lending the insect its ethereal nature. The void freely soared through the flames, coming out the other side no worse for wear, and directly into the spider, still frozen in place. Thankfully, that had been their plan and had been ready for the sprawl to follow, almost ready. They had not been ready for the bottles around them to fall off the shelves, peppering the two with foul-smelling liquid and shards of glass. Though it did seem enough to shake the spider from whatever daze, they had been trapped in. A loud shout drew them from their thoughts.

When Angel came too, suffice to say he was woefully unprepared. He had a headache that wanted to split him in two, a mouth that tasted like a sandpaper cock and he was doused in Husk's liquor. Any one of these three things would have been enough to get on his nerves, all three of them at once leads only to an outburst. Before he could wrangle in his emotions a shout was worming its way from his lips. "Oh, what the **fuck!** " Gloved hands attempted to clear the liquid from his eyes, yet the burning sensation stopped him from attempting to open them. The other pair tried to brush the stinging sensations off of his carapace. Maybe he could just. . . Angel shook away his thoughts, he wouldn't do that. They would hate him, just like daddy always said. That it was ugly and people wouldn't like him anymore.  
A familiar voice called to him from his stupor, something firm and friendly. "Angel, language please!" Oh, that makes sense. 'Course, Charlie would be the one to tell him to calm down on the swearing. He _had_ been working on it, in front of her at least. When he was with Cherri, nothing could stop him from saying whatever was going on in his mind. "Hey, uh Princess? Yah don't happen to know what's going on here do you?"

Everything was going just fine, they had a new guest, they had manners and the day was looking up even Niffty was here! Yeah, Charlie knew how intense she could come off as onto new people, but it's better to get that out of the way sooner rather than later right? For a minute the Hotel's newest resident was doing well underneath the Cyclops' scrutiny. Her frenzy was like a cleaning tornado, yet somehow it didn't seem to cause any problems. Until. . . Niffty made a move for the cloak the bug had been wearing. Admittedly, it was a little raggedy and could use a good cleaning, (her father would say it adds character) but as the woman's hands tugged at the fabric, something tore. It wasn't like when someone tears clothes, it just _sounded_ wrong, like tearing muscle, or hair.  
Now everything was descending chaos, the princess went charging ahead, despite her guard's protests, attempting to deescalate the situation. Neither Alastor nor their new guest seemed to even hear her. A sinking feeling grew in her stomach as Charlie saw Al's symbols flare to life around him. She still couldn't figure out what the symbols meant, but she knew by now they only showed up whenever he was preparing a show of power. The demon's eyes widened as the temperature shot up in the room, diving backward, tackling her partner as a rail of flames bisected the room in half.

Hellfire was a strong show of magic, one Vagatha hadn't come across too often, every experience with it has been life or death. Seeing the pillar of heat spread before her, only helped reaffirm her suspicions of the Radio Demon. Yet even at the show of force, she could almost agree with it. The cut Niffty got didn't look like the most serious thing, but would Vaggie have acted the same if it was Charlie who was cut? Part of her wants to say no, that she would try to come to an understanding and find out what happened. However, she just isn't like that, she would simply react, swiping out again and again to get her revenge. It's why Charlie appealed to the moth demon so much, she was so kind and held herself to such an unreachable standard.  
As the moth demon was flung backward, she could only jolt in surprise, her head, knocking solidly on the ground as a blinding light flashed before her shut eyes. A crimson image burning its way past her sealed eyelids, almost as bright as if she had never even closed them.

'Oh Al is going to pay for that', Charlie looked over her shoulder, the searing flames dying out in the last semblances of magic. To Magne's surprise, she could hear the iconic voice of her star patron behind the counter of Husk's station. Inwardly the princess winced at the colorful language the spider used. She still had yet to break him of the habit. Her voice carried through the lobby, reminding the spider of his improper language. "Angel, language please" the spider took a moment to reply to Charlie. "Yah don't happen to know what's going on here do you?" The princess looked down over the woman she had been protecting, both of the moth demons' hands covering her eyes. Oh, when this is all over Charlie is going to rip the radio demon a new one, overlord or not. "Uhh you know, just a little spat"

Alastor cocked his head in surprise, one hand coming up to slightly adjust his monocle. Alastor had sent out his shadow to gather Niffty and bring her out of the way but how had that pesky insect managed to dive through their flames? That was a feat not even other overlords would be able to pull off unless this bug was an incarnation of Lucifer, something else must be going on. The deer demon took a breath to center himself, stretching out his clawed hands and gathering his magic within his palm. Perhaps it was some sort of intangibility? If that was true then this bug might prove to be some sort of entertainment after all. The ability to dive through their attacks could be interesting. Stepping forward the Radio demon pressed his microphone into the crook of his arm, leading forward with his extended palm, and just as he took a step forward towards Husker's bar; he felt a searing pain slash through the protective clothing covering his back.

Sneaking had never been one of Ghost's strongest skills; running? Fighting? They had done that countless times and had nearly perfected it. Yet they could never sneak around like their half-sister Hornet. Maybe it was because she was a spider, but Ghost could never find the sibling when she didn't want to be found, swinging through Greenpath or the city of tears. It was remarkable to watch but it simply wasn't a skill the Vessel could emulate.  
But exceptions have to be made sometimes. Angel seemed to be recovering beneath the countertop and based on the sounds of the other bystanders, they were safe at the moment. That certainly levels the playing field, now all they had to worry about was taking care of the tall figure. Which is probably the hardest part. . . Ghost crawled along the floor, their back hunched to make a smaller target as they crept around the bar. If this is what Hornet had to put up with every time she had to sneak around, Ghost is going to quit. Every second seemed to stretch into hours, straining not to make a single sound as they stepped around the minuscule shards of glass. After retracing their steps, the Vessel took a peek around the corner of the bar, eyes intently watching the approaching demon, as the insect prepared to attack they noticed something. A curious glass bauble in front of their right eye. Distantly they remember something like it in the city of tears, a pair of glass shades that the richest husks would wear to improve their poor vision. A bolt of inspiration strikes the Vessel, keeping to the right side of the horned attacker, they shade dash to the closest piece of debris, a half charred stool that barely obscures their body. As they quickly make their way around the room the figure doesn't even seem to notice them, intently focused on the bar he believed Ghost was still hidden behind.

From there it was an easy fight to climb the hotel's walls with their mantis claw and skip behind the deer demon. The only sign they had betrayed their position was the flick of those tall ears. If it were possible Ghost would have smiled, they were familiar with some of the man's mannerisms, thanks to playing tricks on their king Grimm. Drawing upon their nail Ghost landed lightly on the carpeted floor, it always took a moment of concentration when preparing one of the nail arts. After a moment of tension, the King of Hallownest sprung forward, their legs pushing against the thin rug to swing outwards in a broad horizontal swing of their nail. An arc of steel flashed outwards, slicing a thin ribbon through the man's clothing. Ghost didn't take a moment to congratulate themselves, however, backpedaling as the demon swung around with flames burning in their eyes.

Reacting purely on instinct the infamous overlord of Hell swung around, a curse brimming on his lips as they swung with their hand. A blade of crimson energy sprung outwards, slicing the air in a retaliatory hiss, only for the bug to dash to the side, avoiding the thin blade. Just who does this bug think it is? Faintly a growl brews in the man's throat, his nose wrinkling. The second the bug drew some of the deer's blood, it stopped being a game, now it is personal. With a whirl of their hands, the Demons microphone lashed out in a scything arc. Generally, they weren't one to devolve to physical combat, but an Overlord doesn't stick to one thing if they want to keep their head. As the microphone sprang outwards the insect almost seemed to freeze, their head faintly tracking the movement before leaping upward, their "sword" striking downwards to bounce off of the magical focus. Alastor took a quick backstep as the insect moved to strike at him.  
The bug was quick, Alastor would give him that, but they don't have any of the raw power the demon had, and that is where the war would be one. As the radio demon drew their focus close, the air began to hum with power. Distantly the symbols of Legba and Kalfu flared to life around him, familiar sigils that signified the power he wielded. As the man prepared his offensive, the plans fell apart as the insect cast a spell of their own, barely needing to gather their focus at all to launch a ball of coalesced black energy. A faraway part of Alastor's mind noted the use of magic, its use rather impressive in the grand scheme of things. In a split second, the radio demon tossed away his offensive, spinning his staff between his hands, red sigils flaring to life as a shield of circular energy sprang to life, absorbing the magic, even as it sent him a step backward. When the shield dispersed, Alastor was expecting his eyes to meet a tired and weary bug collapsing upon themself. Surprisingly that was the farthest thing from reality, the bug was directly in front of them, the sword striking out to separate the flesh on their cheek before darting away to avoid a harsh swipe.

The fight had not been going good for Ghost, at best the two were striking even, while the Vessel had been able to get two hits on the attacker, they knew that they barely affected the man. However, if Ghost slipped up at all the flames the figure controlled would likely spear their shell altogether. Even the shade soul spell they had cast was effortlessly redirected, something no creature in Hallownest had been able to do. While it wasn't their strongest spell, having it be swiped aside like that was worrying. Luckily it looks like things were looking up.

"As princess of Hell, heir to the Magne throne and Owner of the Happy Hotel, Alastor I **Order** you to stand down!"

Ah, that was a peculiar development. The overlord slowly began to turn his head, his breathing slowing as he narrowed his eyes at the woman who dared to challenge him. Charlotte Magne was marching down the stairs, her jacket noticeable gone to shield the recovering bodyguard. The Demon narrowed his eyes as he wiped the blood off of his face, the crimson liquid sizzling on his gloved fingertips, catalyzing his greater magic. With a deep breath, the demon fully turned to the Princess, using his height to his full advantage to tower over the woman, his eyes briefly flickering to the radio dial state as his voice grew staticky. "I do beg your pardon?"

Here we go Charlie, remember, show no weakness. The princess of Hell took a breath to steady herself, it wasn't too late to take back her words, just turn around, grab Vaggie and stay away until the fight was done. "You heard me Alastor, I'm ordering you to stand down." Or maybe not, okay, no backing out now. The woman pushed out her chin, looking upwards to the radio dials of the demon who controlled the Hotel's future. (She was reasonably sure that she was free from his wrath, reasonably) Charlie clenched her hands into fists, nails harshly pressing into the flesh of her palms as she fought to stand her ground. "This is all a misunderstanding, Niffty had unintentionally hurt our guest and they had reacted in kind. If you continue to pursue violence against our newest client we will be parting ways, Al."

Alastor narrowed his eyes, steadying his breath as he set his face into a neutral, collected smile. (Remember Al, no matter what, keep smiling for me, okay?) This was intriguing, this is the first time the princess had stood up for herself, on behalf of a guest no less. Al knew he was the one with all of the leverage in this scenario, the titles Charlie attempted to wield ultimately meant nothing to the Overlord and would not sway them in any direction whatsoever. However, the development was too interesting to give up on, which left them at an impasse. Either they ignore the slight against one of their employees, or they cut ties with the princess. For a moment the Deer was torn between the decisions. He wasn't one to overlook slights, especially against a soul as ki- valuable as Niffty. Yet backing out of the deal he had made with the princess would simply be wasting all of the time they had put towards the hotel. Alastor wasn't one to be wasteful.

After the second most tense moment of Charlie's life, the Demon slowly began to unwind, his microphone coming out of the crook of his arm and tapping against the floor. "Alright then, however, I expect an apology in full"  
Charlie's eyes widened, truthfully she hadn't expected the demon to give into her terms, a concession was something she can easily do. Except for one thing "One moment Al, why are you getting an ap-"  
The demon didn't even bother letting her finish the sentence "Not an apology for me Charlotte, for Niffty. She isn't prone to injury in her line of work and I would like your new client to apologize to her"  
The princess could see that, she likely would have asked the bug to apologize anyways. "One problem, our guest appears to be mute" Charlie's tense smile slowly began to turn into a frown as Alastor's smile only grew wider.  
"Well, then I suppose it really will be heartfelt when she receives it." 

Without another word, the Deer demon began to make his exit, waving his hand to disperse his magic. With a blinding flurry of red and green, the room seemed to briefly spin as the damage was restored with merely a snap of the Radio Demon's fingers.

Despite what it may look like, Alastor was not sulking. The deer demon was simply going to collect his thoughts, lord knows he has a lot of them after that fight. Seeing Niffty injured brought something out of the Demon he hadn't acknowledged in a very long time. With a clenched fist the Demon retracted his shadow, calling forth the apparition from wherever it had snuck off too after the fight. The Deer took a moment to look at the creature that hid within his darkness, blending in effortlessly. The shadow was one of his most reliable constructs, being by the demon's side since he first fell into Hell. After taking a deep breath Alastor drew forth the question he had already been thinking of while he had been strutting down the Hotels maze of corridors. "How did she look?"  
While the shadow construct couldn't precisely communicate verbally, Alastor was very familiar with the in and outs of their body language, eyeing them up and down as they manifested, stepping out from behind them. The boogeyman was, anxious? No that wasn't quite the right word, perturbed, yes perturbed. Alastor spoke to the hollow darkness of the Hotel, voicing his question to his eternal servant "Do you think you can lead me to her?"  
The lack of response was telling if only for a moment the creature stuttered. Stopping for the briefest moment to think before carrying on, taking the lead in lockstep with their master, drawing them towards the Hotel's library upon the second floor. Alastor and Niffty both enjoyed the enormous library, however, they both partook in it for very different reasons. Alastor found it had a very pleasant atmosphere, akin to that of the public library in his home of Louisiana. the deep chairs could be relaxed in for countless hours before getting sore and the fire that burned in the mounted fireplace brought a soothing heat.  
Niffty took her time in the library for nearly the opposite reason, she loved it for the challenge it presented. the sheer size often took a whole hour to clean in its entirety, and if the maid kept at it, she could surely find more things to be done within its walls. Sweeping, dusting, polishing, weeding, it was the perfect place to distract herself when her thoughts became too loud. Sadly the cyclops only seemed to have one coping mechanism, making her quite the workaholic.

Despite not even pushing open the Libraries double doors, Alastor could already hear the ruckus the cyclops was making as she tore around the sanctum. With a raised eyebrow the Deer gestured with his microphone, sweeping it forwards to open the doors with a wave of magical energy. A frivolous waste of power, or it would have been to anyone else not as concerned with theatrics as the Radio Demon himself. Taking a second to look around, the deer cocked his head, the room was already spotless. Every cobweb had been seared, all the rugs have been beaten, the shelves have all been wonderfully polished. What was Niffty concerning herself with if everything had already been taken care of?  
The answer came in the form of a thunderous racket, a constant banging noise that echoed closer and closer to the demon as books were thrown off of the shelves before being sorted around by a manic whirlwind. Leatherbound tomes were torn from their shelves before being hastily rearranged, first by color, then alphabetically, then by size.  
The Deer demon sighed at the display of demon, looking to the dark manifestation of his power before jutting his head. "Do you think you can take care of that?"  
The shadow didn't respond, nor had Alastor expected it to, yet it obeyed his subtle command without question, teleporting across the small distance to still the cyclops, shadowy hands gently placing their weight on the small woman's shoulders.

Taking a deep breath the Radio Demon rolled his wrist, energy gathering behind his movements before a sudden flourish sent the wave of energy outwards, enveloping the library in its entirety, pulling the mismatched books off of their shelves and appropriately rearranging themselves in alphabetical order. Alastor sighed in relief, watching the books properly sort themselves, walking to his panting servant, it was rare that she run sort of breath. Normally she could carry on multiple conversations while sprinting at full pace but the attack had done quite a number on her.  
Slowly placing his hands on the smaller womans' shoulders the demon took a breath, kneeling to the ground, pulling her close in a firm embrace, letting the maid bury her tear-stained cheeks in the crook of his neck. "Don't worry darling, I'm here. . ." 

'It's okay, they're gone, you don't have to think about them anymore, they walking away see?' Ghost's internal monologue struggled to piece the situation together, a truce had been struck by Charlie and the tall man and just as fast as the fight had started, it ended. The vessel was left reeling at the tonal whiplash. Their attention split between forcing themselves to calm down and the retreating figure. Distantly they think of approaching them but the idea doesn't even get off of the ground before it's thrown away. Just because a truce had been struck mere moments ago doesn't mean it was solid, for all Ghost knew the man would lash out and spear them with no thoughts as to the consequences. Simply speaking, they couldn't afford a gamble like that.  
with a rolling wave of magic, Ghost focused their supply of soul, willing the energy to coat their shell, building the health they had lost in the conflict. It was the simplest of their spells but it also was one of their longest, if they dared to try and regenerate in the middle of combat they would be left wide open to an attack that could mean life or death for them. After a moment the bug sheathed their nail, placing it upon their back without a second thought, looking at the chaos that had been wrought during their fight, only to find nothing. Which was almost as frightening as the fight itself. Did this place have menderbugs? Or some other class of creatures that took it upon themselves in restoring the underworld? Ghost shook their head, the sight simply proved how otherworldly this place was, how different it was from their home.

Angel took a moment to shake his head, some sort of fuzziness was still making it hard to think. Standing from behind the bar, the spider recoiled at the scent of shitty alcohol soaking into his fur. Sure he didn't exactly mind smelling like a little liquor but bathing in it? That's where Angel drew the line, no matter how hard he tried to scrub his fur it was almost impossible to get the stench out without a tomato bath. With a quiet sigh, the spider dragged himself out from behind the stained countertop, their long legs carrying them over to the insect that saved them, still looking at the retreating form of Alastor. Angel can understand why, the demon sure was nice to look at. Rubbing his arm the spider sighed, squaring his shoulders as he looked down at the Vessel. "Hey, I uh, I just wanted to say. . . Thanks, I don't know what got into me and I just, froze up, I guess." A minuscule smile broke its way onto the arachnid's face, one hand rubbing the back of their neck. "If you need anything, just ask, I'll be there, okay?"

In the darkest reaches of night, there is a flicker of red, a fluttering cloak that shines against the outline of the starry pentagram of Hell's sky. A lithe figure soared over the buildings' rooftops, nimble legs sprinting and leaping, barely making a noise as a figure traversed the crowded cityscape. Despite the bustling energy that filled the sordid metropolis, not a soul noticed the starry silk that flicked through the air, followed by a dashing woman, soaring through the air with a needle strapped to her back. As the woman deftly climbed the crumbling spire of a deteriorating skyscraper she could only marvel at the scene laid before her. In all her life no such thing had existed, yet upon her waking, every place was of a similar sight. Energy flowed through the world around her as naturally as air, countless bodies carrying out their routine in the crimson city. Hornet took a breath, steadying herself, looking up into the sky, her eyes taking note of the searing sigil marked in the air and something beyond it, a shimmering palace just barely noticeable in the distance. 'what is this place?' The spider wondered, 'was little ghost successful? Is the old light truly vanquished? Where am I, did the death of a higher being bring her here?' The death of a higher being would no doubt have consequences upon Hallownest but no matter how hard Hornet thought about her situation, she could not piece together the puzzle that undoubtedly lay before her. She simply could not have had all the pieces.  
As the queen of Deepnest reflected upon her situation, her thoughts were disturbed. The spire she clung to shook violently, nearly throwing her off by the sudden reeling force. A confused gaze turned to both the left and right before looking down. The ground was countless feet beneath her, despite the distance, the spiders' keen eyes spotted the cause of the disturbance. A figure with a manic grin plastered upon their face, hands firmly planted on their hips and a singular eye focused on the quivering building Hornet is perched upon. Turning her gaze to the base of the building, Hornets' eyes grew wide. An explosion rocked the tower, the entire first floor blowing outwards in a spray of heat, smoke, and glass. Milliseconds later the floor above it did the same. A cascade of explosions rose floor by floor in a staggered arpeggio, making its way upwards with no sign of stopping.

Truthfully, Cherri Bomb never needed a reason to cause chaos, it was simply something they did, it came as naturally to them as breathing. This, however, was something special, a test run for a project Cherri had in the back of her head. It came to them late one night watching an old thriller movie with two people screaming about tossing a time bomb of a skyscraper. Turned out to be a wad of forged money in the end but it was just enough to spark the idea in the anarchist's head. 'What if. . . I just had a lot of those?' With Cherri's unique talent in demolition, it was quite simple to make a whole bunch of time bombs, all rigged to blow one after another. The hard part was simply finding a tall enough building to really show off her talent, but that was no issue. After tailing some prick to work she had the perfect target. If the fucker was still in the building when the explosives went off, that wasn't the cyclops's problem, dude deserved it after taking a parking spot anyways. After running a (presumably) safe distance, the woman was ready for the show.  
Boy, it sure was a show, it was something that was supposed to go off all at once but honestly? Cherri couldn't complain, the rising explosions were kickass, and **wayyyy** more dramatic. Watching the vermillion flames bloom outwards was probably the best decision she had made all week (It was a Monday). As the explosions rose to their peak a spiraling figure jumped from the spire placed atop of the office complex. The bomber hadn't even seen it but as the descending figure flew downwards to meet her, Cherri could only feel her heart pounding in her ears. With a flash of demonic energy, Cherri prepared for the fight ahead, her namesake materializing in her outstretched hands, ready to detonate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One fight ends and another begins, tell me what you think, I feel like this was kind of rushed and the chapter might have suffered for it. Splitting my time between this and school hasn't been very easy on me and trying to get this out was pretty difficult.
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for all of the views and kudos this fic has gotten. I never would have thought my b tier writing would ever be able to draw in people like this and it really makes me happy seeing how much all of you have been liking this crack crossover.


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